


Leave The Bourbon On The Shelf

by minyoungis



Series: BTS [11]
Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alcohol, Concert Mention, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Fish tank cleaning, Fluff, House Sitting, Humor, Jimin on Tour, Phone Calls & Telephones, Swearing, fluff & humor, he has a really pretty neck idk what u want from me, honestly it's a laugh, i just think it's neat, i'm sorry i'm trying my best but tagging is hard this is a vague premise, my neck kink really comes through, soft, the word daddy in a humorous context
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:53:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27098395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minyoungis/pseuds/minyoungis
Summary: You may not have the real thing for the next few months, but as you take in the way his neck moves with every sip, the crinkle of his eyes as he laughs at something you say, the angle at which the dim, yellow hotel room night light falls on his face and the languid, relaxed stoop of his shoulders as they occasionally shake with giggles, you think you’ll do just fine with this temporary, pixelated substitute.
Relationships: Park Jimin (BTS)/Reader
Series: BTS [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1973482
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	Leave The Bourbon On The Shelf

**Author's Note:**

> leave the bourbon on the shelf / and i’ll drink it by myself / and i love you endlessly / darling don’t you see / i’m not satisfied - Leave The Bourbon On The Shelf, The Killers

You unlock the front door and step into the musty house, slipping off your sandals in the foyer. Consulting the list on your phone, you make your way to the living room, at the corner of which there’s a large, deeply thrumming fish tank.

_Feed Nemo and Dory._

Snorting softly, you look at the two Koi fish, swimming around in the water, that look nothing like their namesakes. With an amused shake of your head, you dutifully pick up the aquarium fish feed bottle that’s stood next to the lit up tank and undo the lid, shaking it over the water so the flakes fall in, bidding the fish to rush towards the food.

Satisfied, you move on to item number two on the list.

_Clean sides of tank with algae pad. **Remember to turn off the filter.**_

You look up, wondering where on earth the algae pad could be and if this is a good enough reason to call him. Giving a cursory glance around the room, just so you can feel like you’ve searched at least a little bit, your stomach gives a sad little flop as you notice it sitting right there on the shelf next to the tank.

Shaking off the irrational disappointment, you turn off the filter, strongly reminded of an afternoon the previous week, when he had wagged a finger in your face, pinning you to the couch with his stern gaze, explaining his fish tank cleaning instructions for the third time before he finally sent the house sitting list to you. You don’t remember much of the lecture, but you _do_ remember the way his freshly dyed pink hair had lain on his forehead and the way his bracelets had jingled a little bit every time he wildly demonstrated his technique.

You’ve always had a short attention span, so it really is his fault for drawing out the explanation for as long as he did and spending ten minutes talking about how you should open the front door, despite the fact that you’ve done it countless times before.

Slipping on the rubber gloves that are next to the pad, you gently scrub the sides of the tank, trying to emulate the method that you’d seen him use. You ignore the weird, squelchy feeling as water slips into your glove, and once you see an actual difference in the glass, you pull your hand out, making sure to switch the filter on again.

Item number three.

_Tell them they look pretty today._

You look doubtfully at the fish swimming around, done with their food and looking stupidly blank. Small? Yes. Fast when they want to be? Probably. But pretty? Decidedly not.

Feeling incredibly foolish, you bend down to fish eye level and mutter, “You both look very…orange today.”

Determining that this is good enough for Jimin and his excessively demanding Koi, you proceed to the next point.

_Make sure they’re happy before moving on to next point._

Oh, for fuck’s sake. Feeling increasingly frustrated, you bend back down, making eye contact with one dumbly floating fish. You don’t know what to expect, how to determine a fish’s happiness.

“Here, fishy fishy fishy,” you mumble in a faux, high pitched voice, sounding shockingly like Jimin when he whines for something. Vaguely, you think of the energy meter on top of the puffles in Club Penguin, and wonder whether the Kois’ would increase, if they had one.

The fish you’re looking at gives no acknowledgement, simply turning away and swimming in the opposite direction in the spacious tank. Figuring that you’ll have better luck with the other one (Nemo? Dory? How on earth does he tell the difference?), you look at it, only for your heart to veritably stop beating for a second as you take in its stationary, close eyed form.

With your pulse in your ears, you gingerly let your finger dip into the tank, moving to tap the body. “Oh, don’t be dead, don’t be dead. I promise, you look very pretty today, please don’t be dead, Jimin will kill me – Oh, hello.”

The moment your index finger touches its scales, its eyes shoot open and it darts away from you after casting what you’re sure is a glare in your direction. Feeling half rueful that you woke it up from a nap and half relieved that it’s at least moving, you wipe your finger on your jeans, deciding that Jimin will have to settle for Koi that are alive, if not particularly pleased.

You simply ignore the next point on the word document he had sent you (‘ _Are you absolutely sure they’re happy?_ ’), and move on to _Water the plants. Use the green can. **Do not use the blue can. I will know if you do.**_

Not taking very kindly to his tone, you obstinately stalk over to the utility counter and purposefully pick up the blue can, pointedly ignoring the green one that’s sitting next to it.

“Fuck you,” you mutter, taking a quick video as you fill it with water from the kitchen tap before moving to the balcony and sending the file to Jimin before pouring the right amount of water into each of the five pots. This step also had long, winding instructions. You clearly remember him from a week ago, drawing you out into the balcony one night under the guise of ‘ _A date under the stars, Y/N, it’ll be romantic!_ ’ only to royally screw you over and start explaining how much water his mini lotuses and peace lilies required. It had almost made you revoke your offer to house sit when he was away.

Once you’ve finished, you move on to the next item, absentmindedly placing the empty can back up on the shelf and drying your hands on a kitchen towel.

_Reassure them that they’re loved and that daddy will be back soon._

Unable to stop yourself, you laugh out loud into the empty house at the wording, knowing that Jimin must have had a field day while typing that. You make your way to the balcony double doors that you’ve already locked shut. Too lazy to unlock them, you press your nose to the glass and look straight at the plants as the afternoon sunlight falls on them, feeling like you’re about to give a sermon to a comatose audience of five.

“You’re all, uh, very loved and daddy will be back soon,” you say, giggling through your words.

Calming yourself, you move to the next point.

_Read the whole list again, but this time replace ‘they’ with ‘you’_

Confused, you scroll back up, letting your eyes roam over the words. The first two points don’t make a lot of sense but at the third, a small grin replaces your quizzical frown.

_You look pretty today._

_Make sure you’re happy before moving on to next point._

_Are you absolutely sure you’re happy?_

Your dopey smile gives way to a chortle at _You’re loved and daddy will be back soon_ , and as if on cue, your phone begins to vibrate with a video call from Jimin.

You eagerly accept, still chuckling, and say to his grainy, tired but happy face without preamble, “In what universe are you my _daddy_?”

His grin grows and he lets out a little giggle. His eyes are twinkling with mirth as he replies, “So you went, then?”

“I’m here right now,” you say, moving your phone farther away so he can see that you’re standing in his living room in front of the television.

“Did you finish the list?” he asks, running a hand through his hair, and you greedily take in the way the strands fall back down gracefully. You can make out a headboard and hotel room wallpaper behind him, a weirdly mundane backdrop to his shining, post concert face, still alight with excitement and adrenaline.

“Almost. I’ve just finished the _super_ romantic eighth point.”

“Are Nemo and Dory happy?” he asks, smugly grinning at your comment.

With a roll of your eyes, you reply, “Yes, yes, Nemo and Dory are very happy.”

“And my lotuses?”

“You haven’t named them?”

“I don’t want them to feel restricted in their growth.”

Scoffing, you answer again, “Your plants are also very happy. Very, uh, green and such.”

Satisfied, he leans back on the headboard, taking his phone along with him so you’re given a lovely view of the insides of his nostrils as he adjusts himself into a comfortable position.

“How was the show?” you ask once he’s stopped shuffling around and you’re looking at his much more pleasing visage.

“It was awesome! The new army bomb changes colours now, it looked beautiful in the dark.”

You hum in reply, feeling a warm glow as you watch him continue talking about the concert. Tour means distance but more importantly, tour means performing every night, meeting new fans, and travel and different food. And it’s always fun reuniting when he’s back. In the non biblical sense.

It doesn’t mean you don’t miss him, because it’s only been a week but you feel like it’s been months since you last held his positively tiny hand, but you’ve successfully talked yourself into being mature and rational about this.

“You should read the last few points on the list,” he says abruptly at the end of his rant.

Switching apps, you threateningly warn, “Jimin, I swear if it involves telling your dumb fish-“

“Don’t call Nemo and Dory _dumb_!”

“-that they look pretty one more time, I’m hanging up on you.”

“Just read it, will you?”

_Open liquor cabinet_

“Why, you’ve got a pet spider in there that needs some tender loving care?”

Snorting, he impatiently flaps an arm at you to get you going, and you get up from your comfortable position on the couch, muttering about being made to move.

Mostly empty, the shelf has an expensive looking bottle of whiskey sitting in the front with a post it stuck on top of the label that reads ‘ _FOR TOUR_ ’.

“Did you forget to carry the bottle with you or something? Can you even get alcohol past customs, how does that work?”

At the end of your sentence, you look back at your phone screen only to see Jimin with a wide grin on his face, one hand proudly holding up his own, similar glass bottle by the neck.

“It’s for you! So we can drink together!”

Slightly disbelieving, with a raised eyebrow, you ask, “So your solution for a temporarily long distance relationship is…alcoholism?” There’s no real bite in your words, though. You can see the wisdom in the plan. Wisdom that has strong root in the fact that you would never be able to afford a bottle that fancy.

“Look, I might be here and you might be there-”

“No, _really_?”

“-but we can still drink together!” he continues, ignoring your snarky interruption.

“Why can’t we _eat_ together? Or watch a movie together?”

Raising his eyebrow and giving you a long, dramatic sigh, he slowly brings his own bottle down. “Okay, if you don’t want to, I guess I could just drink this very pricey, very imported bottle all by myself.”

“How can something be _very_ imported?”

“Listen, do you want to drink or not?” he impatiently bursts, sternly looking at you through the screen. The effect is a little muted, due to the fact that his video gets stuck at that exact instant, eyebrows scrunched and lips stuck in a petulant pout, but it serves its purpose as you rush to bring the bottle down from the shelf while rapidly saying, “Okay, okay, yes, I want to drink with you.”

With a momentary painful screech of static, Jimin’s face resumes movement, morphing into content self-satisfaction.

Setting the phone down, you twist open the crystal cap of the bottle, proceeding to pour it into a glass.

“Are you sure you don’t want to sleep? You seem pretty tired.”

He waves away your concern as he gets his own glass from the hotel room kitchenette. “We’ve got a free morning tomorrow, I can sleep in. You’ve got a ride back?”

“Oh, am I not taking this bottle home and drinking it there?” you tease.

“I want to spend some quality time with my plants, I miss them.”

Giggling, as you settle into your previous position on the couch, now cross legged with a glass full of whiskey in your hand, you reply, “I can call Hyejin, no problem.”

“Lovely,” he says with a grin as pleased as punch spreading across his face as he similarly sits down on an arm chair at the corner of his room. Behind him, you can make out the beige blinds that are so typical to the fancy hotels in which the company books them rooms. “Now, tell me, Y/N. How are your side hoes doing?”

“Peachy,” you reply, taking a sip of your drink as you indulgently watch Jimin do the same through his phone that’s perched on the coffee table in front of him.

You may not have the real thing for the next few months, but as you take in the way his neck moves with every sip, the crinkle of his eyes as he laughs at something you say, the angle at which the dim, yellow hotel room night light falls on his face and the languid, relaxed stoop of his shoulders as they occasionally shake with giggles, you think you’ll do just fine with this temporary, pixelated substitute.

**Author's Note:**

> i'd love to hear feedback, spread the love!  
> find me on tumblr (where everything is cross posted) at @min-youngis :D


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